This is My Confession
by LeeT911
Summary: Everyone knows Jester's sketchbook is like a diary, but Beau knows it's so much more. Mixed in with the caricatures and doodles are genuine works of art, chronicles of their adventures and little scribblings in infernal. Hidden amongst the drawings, is Jester's soul laid bare. (Critical Role C2 spoilers, Jester/Beau)


**This Is My Confession**

Critical Role fanfiction by _LeeT911_  
for beaulavorregard

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Everyone knows Jester's sketchbook is like a diary, but Beau knows it's so much more. Mixed in with the caricatures and doodles are genuine works of art, chronicles of their adventures and little scribblings in infernal. Hidden amongst the drawings, is Jester's soul laid bare.

At first it's innocent enough, the events of the day punctuated with funny scenarios and lewd remarks, all spelled out in graphic detail. They both find it hilarious. Sometimes, when they share a watch or room together, Jester will show off her sketchbook. She'll sit with Beau and read aloud, explain the silly comments in the margin, written in infernal. Jester tells Beau that speaking in infernal reminds her of her mother, helps her feel less homesick.

After Molly, and their run-in with the Iron Shepherds, the sketches get darker for a while, which is completely understandable to Beau. There's also more writing, but again, Beau thinks it's just Jester's way of dealing with things. Every now and then Jester will read a passage out loud, something with her true feelings in it, but she'll pass it off as a joke._ I think I'm falling in love with you_. It doesn't matter anyway, Beau can't understand. No harm done, no secrets revealed.

This goes on for months. Slowly, Jester goes back to being her usual self, and the drawings become whimsical again, though there is more writing. Beau doesn't think anything of it, there's so much going on. They are traipsing all over Wildemount, chasing demons, and trying to end a war. Beau likes listening to Jester speak her native tongue, enjoys the guttural chanting intonations of the mysterious language. Somewhere in those inscrutable markings, Beau thinks Jester is truly being honest.

Jester, on the other hand, has grown accustomed to lying. Maybe that's Beau's influence. In any event, the writing in her sketchbook now is mostly love notes to Beau, all the things that Jester can't find the courage to say. Beau doesn't know of course, she doesn't understand infernal, but it's cathartic for Jester. She's confessing her love, _kinda_, but without the risk. She just makes up quirky stories when Beau is curious what the notes say. It's fine.

Over time, the pining intensifies. There is so much more writing now. Jester pours her heart into those words, filling entire pages. Some nights, she dares to read the actual words aloud, and her pulse races each time, hands clammy. Beau is always respectful. She sees the stress and the nervousness, but she never asks why. She sits alongside Jester and listens to the ebb and flow of the words. Part of her feels guilty, like she's the worst best friend, that there's so much Jester feels the need to hide.

Sometimes, Jester goes off script. Beau can tell when that happens. The rhythm changes, and Jester's voice gets higher. A lot of the same phrases still reoccur, phrases that Beau has no meaning attached to, but they sound comforting, familiar. When Jester goes off script, her hands wring, her lips tremble, and Beau can't turn her eyes away; because when Jester isn't pretending, she is absolutely enthralling.

The days go on. More and more of Jester's secrets are codified in her writing, hidden in plain sight, read aloud to Beau at every chance. With practice, Jester masters this particular deception, voicing her dreams in measured monotone while the blood pounds in her ears. _I am so in love with you._

The first time Beau understands Zemnian, it's Caleb cursing after a fight, and she doesn't notice anything amiss. Because even though she's never known the actual words, their intent was always clear. Beau can't pinpoint exactly when what changed, just that she didn't know Zemnian before, but she does now. There's no time to worry about that though, their mission is urgent. They are trying to save the world.

The don't have time to themselves much anymore. Every night is consumed by getting as much rest as possible as quickly as possible and then moving on. It's been weeks since Jester read to Beau. And Beau will never admit it, but she misses that, misses feeling connected to Jester somehow. So one night, when Jester's watch is ending and Beau's is starting, the monk pats the ground between them, "Do you want to stay up with me for a bit?"

Jester nods and pulls out her sketchbook. Beau sits facing her and waits for the infernal to start. It always does, especially lately.

They flip through a few pages of doodles before they get to the words. The scribbles on the page are still indecipherable to Beau. She's forgotten about her new ability, about how it only extends to speech and not writing. Jester doesn't know any better, she's been speaking infernal for months, waxing poetic about Beau's hair, her smile, her muscular abs. She talks about Beau's kindness, and the soft look in her eyes when she looks at Jester, and how much Jester wants it to mean love. Jester says the same things she always does, and it's fine because Beau doesn't understand infernal.

But Beau **does** understand infernal. She does now. She didn't before, but she definitely does now. Only when Jester starts reading does Beau suddenly get it, as if their minds touched and Jester's words gained meaning. This is her confession, stark, matter-of-fact, and loud. A confession Beau never thought she would hear, because Beau doesn't know how she could possibly deserve this. She's not as perfect as Jester believes, she is flawed, and scared, and nervous.

But Jester is calm, and her words so rehearsed Beau realizes then that her blue-skinned tiefling has been confessing for months, only in infernal. _I'm in love with you, Beau._

So Beau kisses her, soft and shy, not at all what Jester is expecting. Jester's eyes close, her breath catches, and when they break apart she repeats her mantra, still in infernal, just to be sure it's real._ I love you, Beau._

Beau's smile is brighter than any Jester's ever seen before. "I think I kind of like that."

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**Author's Note:**

This was inspired by a thread on Twitter from beaulavorregard, who kindly gave permission to others to turn the idea into fanfic. She deserves co-author credit as I kept some of the original phrasing intact in certain places. So big thanks to her!


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